


Ordinary World

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-04-03
Updated: 1998-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is dead, can Blair move on--and will he have to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ordinary World

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in Come to Your Senses 7 by Whatever You Do, Don't Press. From sometime in 1998. Also, very slight songfic. The title and song quoted within are "Ordinary World" by Duran Duran.

13 February, 1998  
Friday

Blair Sandburg looked at the clock, a frown creasing his beautiful face. Jim Ellison was almost an hour late for supper and he hadn't called, which was very unlike the detective. He decided to try and call his partner, but just as he reached for the phone, there was a knock on the door. A feeling of dread overcame Blair and he didn't want to answer the door, no matter how illogical his fear might be. He knew whoever it was would be bearing bad news, he just knew it.

He answered it, anyway, and found Jim's captain, Simon Banks, standing there. "Simon? What is it? What's happened?" Blair asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Not speaking, Simon walked into the loft, closing the door behind him. "Blair, I... Oh, God, it's Jim."

"Where is he? What hospital, I've got to go see him," Blair interrupted, reaching for his coat that was hanging on the rack near the door.

Simon reached out, stilling Blair's arm, and looked at the younger man, sadness apparent on his face and in his manner. He slowly shook his head. "Blair, I'm sorry, he's.. .he's dead," he said quietly.

"C'mon, man, there must have been a mistake Jim can't be dead, he can't be! I mean, I just saw him at lunch! He can't be dead!" Blair said, defiant disbelief showing in his expressive blue eyes. He reached for his jacket again, and again, Simon stopped him, grabbing the younger man's upper arms.

"Dammit, Blair, he's dead. Jim's dead," Simon whispered harshly, shaking Blair, trying to communicate the direness of the situation.

Blair stared at Simon, and knew, somewhere deep inside, that Simon was telling the truth, that he'd never lie about something like this. As his mind and soul processed what he'd just been told, his life now shattered into a million pieces, Blair's body lost its strength and he nearly collapsed on top of Simon. The older man led him over to sit on the couch, keeping a hand on his arm, ready to offer what comfort he could.

Blair could feel the tears streaming down his face and it felt as if he were watching everything from outside his own body. It was as though this was happening to someone else. After a couple of minutes, he managed to pull himself together enough to find out from Simon what had happened.

"How did he die?" Blair asked quietly.

"It was a car accident, a head-on collision. Both vehicles exploded shortly after impact. The driver of the other car was killed as well. The bodies were pretty badly burned..." Simon trailed off, unsure of just how much detail Blair wanted.

"A car accident? If the bodies were so badly burned, how could they be sure it was Jim? What if somebody stole his truck, Simon? Maybe it was a mistake?" Blair asked, not wanting to believe.

"Blair, I saw Jim get into his truck and I even saw the accident. Unless he teleported out of there... The coroner will double-check everything when he does the autopsy. Blair, I wish there was some possibility that it wasn't Jim, but I know it was."

"What about his family, have you called them?"

"Yes, I called Stephen and he's calling their parents. Is there anything I can do for you?" Simon asked.

Blair shook his head, all he wanted right now was some time alone. "No, thanks. I just need to...be alone for a little while, okay?" he said.

Simon narrowed his eyes and regarded the younger man seriously. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked.

"I won't do myself serious bodily harm, if that's what you're worried about. I just need to be alone, man," he answered.

"Okay, Blair, but if you need anything, please call me. You're not alone in this, you know," Simon said as he stood up and squeezed Blair's shoulder reassuringly. "We're all feeling it."

"I know, man, I know," Blair said sadly. "Thanks, Simon. You're a good friend."

"I'll catch you later, kid," Simon said, leaving the apartment. He'd call Blair this evening to check on him; Simon was worried that the younger man would do something foolish.

Blair sat on the couch, mind and body thankfully numb. He started rubbing his hands up and down his jeans-clad thighs, not realising that he was doing it. He felt empty, disconnected, as if this was a nightmare and any second now, he'd wake up screaming.

The smell of dinner starting to overcook brought him out of his trance-like state and he quickly removed the pot of vegetables from the stove.

Oh, God, it's ruined. Jim'II be so pissed that dinner isn't ohmigodohmigodohmigod, he's dead. He won't be home for supper won't be ever again, Blair thought as he slid to the floor, dropping the pot and spilling its contents all over the place. He barely noticed It, the tears forming in his eyes distorting his sight.

Blair started sobbing as the full realization of what happened hit him. Jim, the best friend he'd ever had in his life, the man he loved more than anything in the world, was gone. And I didn't even get to say goodbye to him, Blair thought as he moaned in grief.

Naomi Sandburg searched along the top of the door sill until her fingers touched the key she had known would be there. It was where Blair always hid his key. She knew her son was home and had a feeling he was in trouble. It was a feeling that had been growing stronger over the last few days and she didn't know why, or what would happen, but she knew that something would.

She opened the door quickly, and hearing someone crying, knew it was her son. Naomi located Blair, almost running over to him. The sound of his sobs was heart-wrenching, as if his soul were being taken away from him. As she knelt down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, she could hear him whispering, almost chanting, "He's gone now. Can't ever tell him. He's gone now. Can't ever tell him."

"Shh, Blair, it'll be okay," she said, her mother's instinct urging her to reassure her son. "Tell me what happened. Who's gone?"

"J-j-j-jim. He's dead and I never told him," Blair managed before more tears overtook him.

"What?! What happened?"

"It was a car accident. A fucking car accident. He was a cop you'd think he'd die bringing someone in or something, but no, it was a fucking car accident! I don't want to believe it, Mom, but Simon told me and he wouldn't lie to me. Not about something like this, would he?"

Naomi pulled Blair into her arms, rocking him ever so slightly, rubbing his back, offering him what comfort she could. When his sobs tapered off after a little while, Naomi suggested they move to sit on the couch.

Blair sat down heavily on the couch, before running his hands over his face and pushing his hair out of the way. He looked at Naomi as she sat down beside him, and it hurt her to see so much pain in those blue eyes. Reaching over, she rubbed Blair's shoulder.

"What did you mean when you said that you never told him. What didn't you tell Jim?" she asked, although she was fairly certain of the answer.

Blair dragged his hands down his face before resting his chin in the palms of his hands. "I loved him, Mom, and I never told him, never let him know just what he meant to me. Oh God! I'm so fucking stupid!" he exclaimed, tears streaking down his face, his cheeks pinched with pain and grief. "I never... I couldn't... Now, he's gone. I've lost him. Oh, God, what'll I do?" he whispered as fresh sobs racked his body.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry that this has happened to you," she said, as her son hugged her, his tears soaking through the thin silk of her dress. Naomi knew it wasn't possible, but still she wished there was some way she could ease her son's pain.

Blair eventually cried himself to sleep, his head resting against Naomi's thigh. She smiled sadly as she stroked his hair. Now it made sense, Blair's wanting to live and work with a cop. Naomi wondered how long her son had loved Jim. She'd have to ask him, let him talk about Jim. Regretfully, she hadn't tried to get to know Jim very well, not bothering to go beyond the tough cop exterior he had projected. If Blair had loved him, Jim couldn't have been a really bad man.

When the phone rang an hour later, Naomi carefully moved off the couch, not wanting to wakeher exhausted son. "Hello?" she answered.

"Naomi? I didn't know you were in town..."

"Well, I had a feeling that something was wrong with Blair. Unfortunately, I was right."

"How is Blair? He seemed really upset when I left, but insisted I go. I just wanted to make sure he was okay," Simon said.

Naomi could tell Simon truly was worried about her son. "He's resting right now; this has taken a lot out of him. If you'd like some company, you're more than welcome to come over."

"I wouldn't want to intrude..."

"Nonsense, you're Blair's and Jim's friend. I know Blair wouldn't mind. Come over, okay?" she insisted.

"Yeah, I could use some company. Thanks, Naomi, I'll see you in a little while," Simon said.

"That's good, see you then," she said, hanging up the phone. She checked on Blair and, seeing he was still asleep, she did a quick clean up in the kitchen. She had just put the last dish away when she heard Blair waking up, so she went over to check on him.

"Oh, God, it's true, isn't it? It wasn't a bad dream? Jim really is dead, isn't he?" Blair asked upon seeing his mother.

"Yes, I'm afraid that he is, baby." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Do want something to eat or drink?"

I.. I don't think so, Morn, but thanks. Urn, I think I'll go take a shower, if you don't mind. Then maybe go lie down for a bit, okay?" Blair answered before slowly dragging himself off the couch.

"Okay. Blair, Simon Banks called. I told him it would be okay if he came over, I hope you don't mind," Naomi said, watching as her son walked listlessly towards the bathroom.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said before going into the bathroom and closing the door.

Blair turned on the water in the shower before quickly shedding his clothes. He winced as he got under the stream; it was a bit hotter than he was used to, but in one way he was just glad he felt it. His mind and body seemed as if they were wrapped in several layers of cotton and it was struggle to free himself. All he wanted to do was curl up on a bed in a fetal position and never move again. He quickly finished his shower and, feeling anything but refreshed, climbed out of the tub, then towelled himself off.

Noticing Jim's grey robe on the back of the door, he reached out and rubbed it with his fingers before pulling it down, gathering it in his hands and sniffing it, trying to find Jim's scent. He could still faintly smell it, so he put the robe on, wrapping it around himself. It gave him some small measure of comfort.

Naomi watched as Blair walked past her and upstairs to Jim's bedroom and she could tell he was getting into Jim's bed. She didn't say anything to him, understanding what he was doing surrounding himself with anything and everything that made him think of Jim. Naomi planned to stay here until after the funeral, for as long as Blair wanted her to remain.

Later that evening, she and Simon sat in the living room talking about Jim and other things.  
Simon was worried about Blair, for when he'd gone upstairs to see the younger man, Blair had barely spoken to him, answering Simon's questions with grunts and mumbles. He was curled up around one of Jim's pillows, his face hidden by the tangled mass of his dark hair. Unsure of how to deal with Sandburg when he was like this, Simon quickly made his way back down to the living room after checking to make sure none of Jim's guns were upstairs. He didn't want the kid to do something stupid.

Blair heard Simon talking to him, but the black cloud of despair that had settled over him since hearing of Jim's death did not permit him to comprehend the words. He made noises, hoping the other man would go away and let him be alone in his grief and misery. Finally, after a few long minutes, Simon did just that, leaving Blair in peace. The younger man turned so his head was buried more deeply in Jim's pillow, and he almost wished he could suffocate himself. Even in his grief, his mind travelled at lightning speed, memories of Jim, of their time together, flowing through him, making him wonder how different his memories would be if only he'd told Jim him loved him.

"How is he, Simon?" Naomi asked.

"I'm not really sure. He barely acknowledged I was there. I didn't realize how hard this hit him," Simon said. "You know, I saw it happen, and I still find it hard to believe. Jim was one of my few really close friends. And he and Blair were like... brothers. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised at his reaction."

"Mmm. I wish there was something I could do to ease his pain, but short of bringing Jim back to life, there's not much I can do, other than be here if he needs me," Naomi said sadly.

"I guess that's all we can do," Simon said. They spent the rest of the evening talking and it was almost midnight before Simon left. "I hope I haven't overstayed my welcome," he apologized.

"No, Simon, I was actually glad to have company. Thanks for coming over. And come back anytime," Naomi said.

"Yeah, thanks. See you later," Simon said as he walked out the door.

Naomi closed the door, then went to find some bedding. She'd sleep on the couch tonight; she wanted to be able to hear Blair if he woke up and needed her. She knew her son was a grown man, but he was also in a lot of pain and if she could help, well, she would.

Blair lay in Jim's bed, covers pulled up over his shoulders, his body wrapped around one of Jim's pillows. Here he could still smell the man he loved and he wished he had the ability to zone on it, to lose himself in it forever. He wished he'd been with Jim when the accident happened so that he wouldn't have to live without him.

Dear God, how am I going to survive without him? Jim was everything to me, absolutely everything. It was his last thought as his exhausted body and mind insisted on sleep.

 

Although she'd decided to let Blair come to her on his own, to wait until he needed her, three days later, Naomi was wondering if that had been such a bright idea. Other than coming down to go to the bathroom, Blair stayed upstairs, curled up in Jim's bed. A few of the times he'd been down, Naomi had convinced him to at least take some water and fruit juice to drink, otherwise he'd make himself really sick.

Simon, and Jim's brother, Stephen, had both stopped by a few times and tried to talk to her son, but he barely responded to them.

Naomi sat on the couch, trying to decide if she should go up and talk to her son. She set down the book she was reading and walked over to the stairs. Just as she put her hand on the rail, she saw Blair standing at the top of the stairs. "Blair?"

A wan smile. "Hey, Mom," he said quietly, sighing.

"How are you doing?" she asked, looking at him, concerned. His hair was sticking up in several places and looked hopelessly tangled as he hadn't washed it in almost three days; his beard was almost fully grown as he hadn't shaved, either, and she could tell he'd lost a little weight. His face looked tired and drawn, but as he came down the stairs towards her, she saw a little flicker of life in his eyes.

"I'm... I'll be okay, I guess. I just miss him so much. I'll always miss him Blair shook his head. "I think I'd better go take a shower, I think I need it."

"Would you like some soup or something to eat?" Naomi asked.

"Yeah, I think I could manage a little soup. There's some stuff in the freezer you can use, Mom. Thanks," he said before going into the bathroom. Once there, he painfully worked the snarls and tangles out of his hair before climbing under the shower. He relished the feel of the warm water flowing over his body. It had been a rough few days and he could think about Jim now without immediately bursting into tears. He still felt an incredible sadness at what he had lost, but he was  
a little more sure now that he'd survive this, that he would make it through. He had to, for he knew the last thing Jim would want was Blair hanging around here the rest of his life, mourning Jim's death. Over these last few days, it had slowly become easier to remember the good (and not so good) times they'd had together. It still hurt to think about Jim, and somehow Blair knew there'd always be some pain in doing that, but he hoped that someday it would become tolerable.

 

19 February, 1998 Thursday

Blair was slowly getting back into the swing of things. As they prepared to leave the loft for the funeral, Naomi looked at her son in his dark suit. He was different now, and it was a change she was sure would stay. It wasn't something she could really point to and say, "This is the difference," but it was as if he were.. .sadder.

Why is it always so grey outside when you bury somebody? Blair wondered as he stood next to Stephen at the grave side, shaking hands with the departing mourners. Jim had been given a policeman's burial, full honors. Now, thankfully, it was over, except for the wake. Blair felt a small smile tug at his face. Jim had always insisted that if there was any wake at all when he died, he wanted it held in a bar. Wanted it to be a party, a celebration, not a mourning. Stephen and he (for Jim's brother had included Blair in most of the decisions) had honored Jim's wishes and would be having the party at O'Riley's, a pub just around the corner from the loft.

Blair shook his head to clear his thoughts and noticed that most everyone had gone now. He stood there a few minutes longer, staring at the black marble headstone, which had been simply inscribed:

JAMES JOSEPH ELLISON  
B. 23 FEBRUARY 1957  
D. 13 FEBRUARY 1998  
BELOVED BROTHER AND FRIEND

The inscription was what Jim had instructed be put on his headstone. This had upset William Ellison, but he hadn't argued with Stephen over it. Blair turned away from the grave, walking over to where his mother and Stephen were waiting for him beside the black limousine. He was completely unaware of the blue-eyed man, dressed as a grounds keeper, who was watching him from a hill, far up in the cemetery. Nor could he see the pain in those blue eyes as the man watched Blair turn and walk away.

Later that evening, after assuring Naomi that he was fine and seeing his mother off on her flight to San Diego, Blair returned to the unnaturally quiet loft. It had felt so.. .empty since Jim had died. It had only been a week, but it still hurt as bad inside as when it had first happened. Blair tried not to dwell on it, but sometimes it overcame him. There were times he'd find himself sitting at his desk or at the computer, tears streaming down his face and not even realizing it.

He quickly turned on the lights and put the radio on he couldn't stand the quiet. He walked over to look out the balcony windows at the grey, overcast city, and he thought he recognized the song...

 _Came in from a rainy Thursday on the avenue,  
Thought I heard you talking softly  
I turned on the lights, the TV and the radio  
Still I can't escape the ghost of you.  
What is happening to it all?  
Crazy some say  
Where is the life that I recognize?  
Gone away_

 _But I won't cry for yesterday  
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.  
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world,  
I will learn to survive._

 

Blair quickly shut the song off before it finished. It had already made him cry and he didn't want to listen to anymore of it. He sat down on the couch and turned on the television hoping against hope that he'd find something that could distract him from his grief.

27 February, 1998  
Friday

The loft. Blair couldn't believe it. He had inherited that and every other thing Jim possessed in this world, which had amounted to a fair bit, in actuality. Jim's life insurance, of which Blair had been sole beneficiary, was worth $200 000, and with some of the investments Jim had made over the last couple of years... Well, Blair could no longer call himself a starving grad student.

Jim had also stipulated that in order to get his inheritance, Blair would have to finish his dissertation, if he hadn't already. In fact, Blair had almost finished writing the major portion of his dissertation before Jim died. He had planned to show Jim the rough draft of it soon.

As soon as Stephen finished reading the will, his father, who was barely mentioned in the document, pointed an accusing finger at Blair. "Why in the hell would my son leave you everything he owned? You were just his roommate. Christ, you probably killed him so you could get his money. I'm gonna fight this damn thing in court. I don't understand this, Stephen!" he yelled.

Stephen noticed how pained Blair had looked when his father had accused him of killing Jim. The old bastard.

Standing up, Stephen looked at his father. "Dad, Jimmy made it quite clear to me that he wanted Blair to have everything. He told me that if you tried to fight it in court, that I was to help Blair in any way I could. And I will. If Jim wanted Blair to be his beneficiary, then that's what Jim wanted. What you want or think should be has absolutely no bearing here. Can't you respect your son's final wishes? Besides, it's not like you need the money. Don't fight this I have more than enough resources to keep you in court until you're broke. Or you die, whichever comes first!" Stephen said, barely controlling his temper.

William glared at his son, and shook his head in disgust. "Goddamn it, you're no better than your brother was!" he said, turning and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Blair looked at Stephen. "Oh, man, Stephen, I didn't mean to cause any trouble between you and your father."

Raising his hand, Stephen stopped him; "Blair, you didn't cause any trouble that wasn't already there. I don't want you to worry about it. I just had to stand up to him, treat him like he treats others, otherwise he'd never have believed me."

 

Somewhere in the jungles of South America  
6 July, 1998  
Monday

"Cameron, Ellison, get yer asses over here!" bellowed Colonel Martinez. The two of them quickly made their way over to Martinez. He stared at them with beady brown eyes. He pulled a map out and placed it on the table beside him. "I need you two to go out along this ridge. It's rumored that some of the rebel groups have been using the caves out there as bases. You're to destroy any, and I mean any, of their bases that you uncover. Is that clear, Captain, Lieutenant?"  
he questioned. At their nods, he said, "This'll be an overnighter; take the appropriate gear. I want you out of here before ten-hundred. Dismissed."

Jim looked down at Lee Cameron, the young woman who was the unit's explosives expert and his tent mate. "Let's go get our gear, Cammy," he said as they walked to their tent.

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," she replied, following him.

They quickly packed what they needed and were on the trail by 0930. It took them a little over seven hours to arrive at the target area, and in that time, almost no conversation had taken place. Jim followed behind Cammy; she preferred to take point and he rarely argued with her. She was just a little shorter than he, with emerald green eyes and very short brown hair, her body was well-muscled and she was strong for her size. Almost the stereotype of a female soldier. Jim smiled, she certainly had the "don't bullshit me 'cause I'm a woman" attitude and he liked her all the more for it. She was a great tent mate since she never tried to pry into his personal life and he showed her the same respect. They got along very well.

They made it to the foot of the ridge and decided to stop and have their supper before climbing up the hill to investigate the caves. Jim was certain there was no one around for he couldn't hear anything except the usual jungle noises.

"Jim, can I ask you something?" Cammy said.

"Yeah, go ahead," he replied.

"Who's Blair? Is she who Martinez and the others threatened you with?" she asked, hoping Jim wouldn't get angry at her as she noticed the muscle in his jaw working.

"Blair's a man, and yes, he's who they threatened. How did you know?" he said quietly.

"You whisper his name in your sleep sometimes. Is he your lover? It's all right, Jim, I'm a lesbian so I'm not about to blab your secrets to the boys back at base camp. I understand," Cammy answered, her green eyes showing concern for her friend.

"No, we never... I never... Blair's straight, so there wasn't much point in even trying to go after him, and I loved him so much, I'd rather have him in my life as a friend than not at all. God, I miss him so much. He's so beautiful," Jim said, looking away. "Martinez helped me rig a car accident, switch things around so that everyone would think it was me," he explained. "What's your story, Cammy?"

"Pretty close to yours, except they threatened to kill my little girl and my lover. There was no way I'd let that happen. No way. Our good friend Martinez made the arrangements. I hate him for taking me away from them, and putting me back into this life. But I knew anyone that was a comrade of Oliver's wasn't kidding about taking my family out. I just wish there was a way to get out of this without getting myself or my family killed. I wonder if the government even knows about this little black op,' Cammy answered, shaking her head.

The two of them fell into an easy silence as they ate their meal and while he ate, Jim regarded the younger woman, wondering how much he could trust her. After what he'd overheard this morning at the base camp, he knew he had to get out of this mess.

It had been almost a year ago when Martinez had first approached him about doing just "one more" black op. Jim had told him no, anything a former henchman of Oliver's was involved with was something he wanted no part in, and had continued to tell him no for almost a month.

Then Martinez played his trump card join or Blair would die. If that didn't convince him, well, Jim still had a family, didn't he? Fortunately for Martinez, they'd been talking on the phone, as Jim was angry enough at the man for threatening Blair that he probably would have done Martinez serious physical harm.

Not wanting to go into anything completely unknowing, Jim decided to meet with Martinez and hear what he had to say. The other man had warned Jim not to mention this to anyone or Blair would definitely die.

When they met, Martinez had told Jim this mission was vital to United States security and the cop had merely snorted. He'd been fed that line in the past and knew how little truth there could be behind it. The other man had told him a story about guerillas who were fighting against a true and rightful government, of how detrimental it would be to the U.S. if these rebels took power. Jim had listened carefully, not only to the man's words, but to his body as well as far as he  
could tell, Martinez was telling the truth. At least what he believed to be the truth.

"So, why do you want me?" Jim asked. "I've been out seven, almost eight years now. I'm just a cop."

Martinez grinned, his brown eyes getting even beadier, his teeth flashing like fangs through his smile. "I need someone with your special... skills, shall we say?"

Jim kept a blank look on his face. "What the hell are you talking about, Martinez?"

"Your Sentinel abilities, Ellison. Don't look so surprised. A certain former CIA operative was looking for a get-out-of-jail-free card, and I arranged it for him. After he shared some very interesting information. I believe you know him, Ellison, his name's Lee Brackett. Yes, Mr. Brackett was very cooperative. I think he said something about a 'score to settle' with you," Martinez explained, smiling more broadly as he noticed the muscle in Ellison's jaw twitch and jump.

Jim glared at the other man, knowing he had little choice in this matter "Fine, I'll do it. When and where?" he asked, barely keeping a check on his anger

"Good, you're a very smart man. We leave for boot camp in about three months. Have to get my new unit working together effectively. Settle up your affairs here and if you need any help... let me know." With that, Martinez stood up and left.

Later that day, Jim visited with Stephen, asking if he'd help Jim set up a new will. He remembered how worried Stephen had looked.

"My God, Jimmy you're not dying or anything, are you? You don't have cancer or something?" Stephen asked, looking at Jim closely trying to see if his brother looked ill.

Jim laughed gently "No, I simply haven't updated my will since just after Carolyn left. I started thinking about it the other day and.. Blair's become very important to me. I'm a cop and something could happen to me and I want to make sure Blair doesn't have to worry about money or a place to live," he explained.

Stephen raised an eyebrow, "Are you two.. lovers? If you are, that's fine by me, Jim. I mean, it wouldn't --"

"Stephen, whoa, man! Stop that train of thought right now. Blair and I are best friends, nothing more. It's not like you or Dad really need my possessions or the money from them, is it? Who else do I have, really?" he said.

Stephen had accepted the explanation and was more than willing to help his brother. Within a few hours, Jim had his new will. He never told Sandburg what he had done. He couldn't; Blair would see right through any lies he tried to tell to cover his ass on this one.

The sound of birds' wings flapping brought Jim's attention back into the present. He quickly scanned with his hearing to tell what had upset the birds. There, a rustling sound. He piggy-backed his sight onto his hearing as Blair had taught him, and Jim smiled as he saw the monkey going from tree to tree. It had obviously startled the birds.

"You want to know something? I don't know how much longer I can do this. Before Blair came into my life, I could have fallen back into this soldier's life so easily, not caring about who I killed or how, or why we were doing it. Could've just followed orders and not felt anything. But now... Now, I just want out. He's done so much for me," Jim whispered the last part, and Cammy didn't really hear him.

"I know, Jim, I know, it would've been the same for me if it wasn't for Sybil and Sylvia," she answered sadly.

"Cammy, there's something I have to tell you. This morning I overheard Martinez talking on the radio to an ex-CIA operative named Lee Brackett. I won't repeat the entire conversation for you, but what I found out is that we aren't fighting government rebels. We're fighting members of the Valdez drug cartel. Seems Martinez and Brackett are here to wipe out the competition and take it over for themselves. All for money. I don't think our government would sanction this. I think we need to get out of here," Jim said.

"That would explain their dragging ex-service into this. People still in uniform wouldn't go for it. As far as our government's concerned, most of us here are already dead." She shook her head. "I wondered why they'd wanted me so bad. I mean, I'm the best, but still... think you're right, Jim, we do need to get the hell out of here."

They quickly finished their meal and starting investigating some of the half-dozen caves on the ridge. They found some supplies; not a lot, but it would make a difference if they destroyed them. As they worked their way closer to the top ridge and the final two caves, Jim could smell the scent of death. Something was dead in there and had been for at least a few days from the smell. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth for some protection as they walked into the first cave. Cammy, too, had to cover her mouth and nose as they entered.

The source of the odor soon became obvious, the decomposing bodies of two of the drug runners were near the back of the cave. From the blood stains on their shirts, it was obvious they'd been wounded and had found this cave for shelter. Cammy and Jim exchanged glances and quickly made their way out of the cave. Just before they walked out, Jim turned and looked closely at the bodies, zeroing his vision in. One was a little taller than he, the other just a bit smaller than  
Cammy...

The two soldiers moved outside and upwind of the cave breathing deeply of the fresh air. As Cammy moved to enter the second cave, Jim stopped her. She looked at him questioningly.

"Cam, those two are right around our sizes."

"Yeah, what's your point, Jim? C'mon, we've got work to do," she said impatiently, unsure why Jim was stalling.

"Do you really want to get out of here?" he asked quietly and levelly, his blue eyes boring into her green ones. He watched as realization slowly dawned.

"Do you think it would work?" she asked, afraid to get her hopes up.

"All we can do is try. I assume you know how to rig the explosion so that it looks like we got blown to bits, don't you?"

"Of course. You know, some timers are just completely unreliable," Cammy smiled.

"But which one of us is gonna put our clothes on their bodies and then what are we gonna wear?"

"There were some sheets covering up the supplies down there. I'm willing to go Roman if you are," he answered.

"Roman?"

"Togas."

Cammy laughed at the thought of Jim Ellison in a toga. "I'll set up the explosive charges, and I'll have to plan it so it looks like the timer malfunctioned as we were walking down the ridge. Position the bodies just right. You'll look after changing them..." she said.

"Yeah. You get started, I'll run down and get us some sheets to wear." Jim said, as he went to retrieve the sheets.

A couple of hours later, as it was starting to get dark, they were ready. They had to leave all their supplies behind, otherwise Martinez would get suspicious.

 

They stood side by side, both with sheets wrapped around them, and watched from a distance as the ridge tumbled down with a loud rumbling noise. They checked to make sure that the bodies were completely unrecognizable before heading out into the jungle.

"Jim, do you think it's safe to travel at night? I mean, we can't see very well," Cammy said.

"Trust me, please, Cammy. We've got to get a big head start, just in case they figure out what we've done. My hearing and sight are much better than an average person's. Just follow behind me, you'll be okay," he answered. Jim desperately wished his spirit guide would show up, he could certainly use guidance right now. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a big cat roaring and saw the black form on the trail ahead of him. When Cammy didn't react to it, he knew it was his spirit guide. It turned off the trail he was on and waited to see if he would follow. He did. He trusted and hoped that the cat would show them the way.

"Cammy, follow me, even if where I go seems unusual. Okay?"

Unsure why, Cammy trusted that Jim would get them out of this. So she followed him as they kept up a light running pace thraugh the jungle. Just as the first fingers of the sunrise were slowly crawling through the sky, they came to the outskirts of a village. There was a warrior standing guard and he pointed his spear at them, interrogating them in a language Jim didn't understand. He looked at Cammy, who shrugged her shoulders, then she tried Spanish and the  
warrior narrowed his eyes and answered her back. She quickly explained their situation and asked for help.

The warrior gave a command before turning to walk to one of the houses in the village.

"He told us to stay here," Cammy translated as the two of them waited.

When the warrior returned, he had an older man with him, whose long white hair contrasted starkly with his sun darkened skin.

"Welcome, friends," he said in heavily accented English. "I dreamed of your arrival the other night. I am Tangua, shaman of this tribe, the Y'tursa. Please, come with me, you both look tired."

"Thank you, Tangua, for your hospitality. My name is Jim, this is Cammy," Jim said respectfully. He knew how honored and powerful a shaman was in a native village. Tangua led the pair to his hut and ushered them inside.

"There is food and water here for you, Jim and Cammy. You may sleep here, as well; there are pallets over there in the corner. I will wake you for lunch. Now I must go inform our chief of your arrival," the old man said, leaving the two tired soldiers alone. Both were thirsty and drank some water before pulling the pallets over and spreading them out on the floor.

As Jim was drifting off to sleep, he heard Cammy whisper, "Do you think they bought it, Jim? Do you think they believed it?"  
"I hope so, Cammy, I really hope so," he replied, before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Just outside Mexico City  
10 July, 1998  
Friday

"Are you sure this guy'lI help us?" Jim whispered.

"Yes, Jim. I'm sure. He owes me big time," Cammy replied as a middle aged man came out from the back to the front of the shop. He stopped and stared at Cammy.

"My God, girl. I never expected to see you down here! What the hell have you been up to, anyway?" he asked, looking at both her and Jim. The two of them were wearing mismatched, over-sized clothing and looked as if they'd been on the road for almost a week, which they had.

"You don't want to know. Oh, Ben Davis, this is my friend Jim Ellison. Jim, this is Ben. Ben, we need your help. We don't have any ID on us and we need to get back into the U.S. Plus, we'll need some clothes and other stuff. Can you help?" Cammy asked.

"Of course," he answered, brown eyes twinkling. "Just follow me. And tell me what you've been up to!"

As Ben made some calls to arrange what Jim and Cammy needed, they gave him an abbreviated version of what had happened. When they finished, Ben looked at them in astonishment.

"You guys are gonna need some help on the other side of the border, aren't you?" he asked, pausing as he thought. "I have a friend in Los Angeles; he'll help you get where you need to go and he owes me a favor, so this one is on me. I'll have the things you need to get across the border by this afternoon. Do you really think your colonel has bought that you both died in that explosion?"

"We can only hope so, Benny," Cammy said, looking at Jim, both of them knowing that it would be impossible for them to return to their lives as they had known them. All they could do was go back to the people that loved them and explain what had happened and why. Then they had to hope that their loves would forgive them.

 

Cascade, Washington  
13 August, 1998  
Thursday

Blair sighed as he pushed open the door of the loft. Today was the six-month anniversary of Jim's death, next week would be the anniversary of the funeral. Blair paused as he dropped his book bag on the floor. It felt like Jim was here. He shook his head, this anniversary was affecting him more than he thought.

God, Jim, will I ever stop missing you? he wondered, as he moved to go into the kitchen.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a very familiar voice say, "Hi, Chief."

Blair whirled around, certain he'd be facing a transparent ghost. Not so; this looked like a very real, and very tired, Jim Ellison.

"Jim! My God, I must be hallucinating. You're dead! You're dead," Blair whispered in a gasp.

Jim shook his head, walked over to Blair, picked up the younger man's hand and placed it over his heart. Blair could feel the heat of Jim's body, the very real beating of the heart under his fingertips. He looked up at Jim, anger and fear flashing in his eyes as he jerked his hand away from Jim's and backed up a few steps.

"Fuck," he growled, trying not to hyperventilate. "How?" he demanded, his voice breaking on the single word. "How. Could. You. Do. That. To. Me? How could you make me think you were dead?! Goddamn it, Jim! Do you know how much it hurt when you died? Do you?! Why in the hell did you do this to me? Whywhywhy!" Blair was screaming now, his fists pummelling the larger man in front of him, tears blurring his vision.

Jim said nothing. He let the younger man take out his anger on him, and tried not to let his own tears fall.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Blair cried as the strength went out of him. Then he suddenly wrapped his arms tightly around Jim, pressing his wet, tear-stained face against the taller man's chest, and whispered around the sob that caught in his throat, "But I still love you."

Jim felt tears tracking down his cheeks as he heard Blair's painful admission. He wrapped his arms around his Guide, burying one hand in the younger man's silken curls. "I'm sorry, Blair," he said in a strangled whisper. "I had no choice. They threatened to kill you, and I loved you too much to lose you. I'm so sorry. I love you."

The two men stood there, holding each other for a long while before moving to sit on the couch. Jim told Blair everything that had happened and why it had happened. And what would have to happen now if they wanted a future together.

"So, Jack Kelso's going to help you?" Blair asked, as he and Jim sat on the couch, holding each other. "You've already spoken to him?"

"Yes. If you want to be with me, it means we'll have to move away from here," Jim replied.

"That's good," Blair said, then smiled at Jim's perplexed look. "I've accepted a position at the University of Maine at Bangor. I'll be teaching, but it also requires me to do fieldwork. I hope it isn't a problem. The job doesn't start until November."

"Maine? I thought you wanted to stay on at Rainier?"

"Well, Cascade just had too many memories of you God, it feels weird saying that. This had better not be a dream, and I don't want to wake up if it is. Oh, God, Jim, I've missed you so much. No matter what they threaten, don't you ever leave me again." Blair whispered the last, before gently kissing the older man. Jim responded, both men moaning as they plundered each other's mouths.

Pulling away, Jim looked at Blair, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I won't leave you, love. I couldn't. I should never have let Martinez talk me into what he did. I should have realized he was crooked, but once they threatened you, all I could think about was how to best protect you. I didn't want to lose you. I hope you can forgive me," he said, claiming Blair's mouth for another kiss. They kissed each other breathless, exploring with lips and tongues, finally pulling apart to catch some air.

They stared at each other, their passion and love for one another an almost electric force between them. As Jim looked into his lover's dark, dilated blue eyes, he wondered how he could have ever put Blair through the pain he had and how he was going to make it up to him. His breath caught in his throat when Blair smiled at him, the love he felt for Jim plainly showing in his eyes and on his face.

Blair reached a hand up to caress Jim's face, smiling at the older man. "Of course I forgive you, Jim. Now, let's go upstairs. I want to make love to you, make you mine, forever."

"I'm already yours, Blair. I always will be," Jim answered.

"Yes, but I'm going to prove to you that you're mine, that you belong to me," Blair whispered, his eyes growing ever darker with passion.

Jim felt a twist of desire course through his body at Blair's words. "God, yes. Let's go," he whispered back, standing up once Blair had climbed off of his lap.

The two men quickly made their way upstairs. Jim stopped at the top of the stairs, looking around the bedroom it was obvious that Blair had moved up here, for there were books and papers all over the place. He noticed a framed piece of paper hanging on the wall. Zeroing his sight in on it, he read it and realised it was Blair's Ph.D. diploma. Walking over, he gently trailed his fingers over the glass protecting the document. "I forgot. You finished your dissertation. Now  
I can call you 'Doc', huh?"

Blair moved behind Jim, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist and looking over his shoulder at the diploma. "Yep. That's me, 'Doc Sandburg.' I'll let you read my dissertation later, if you like," Blair answered.

"Why did you put this here?" Jim asked.

"So I could see it," was all the explanation Blair gave. He turned Jim around to face him. "1 don't think we came up here to discuss my diploma, did we?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Mmm. You're right," Jim replied, gently kissing Blair.

Blair deepened the kiss while he slid his hands under the t-shirt that Jim was wearing, trailing his fingers over the warm and solid flesh of his lover. Jim brought his hands up, wrapping them in the silken curls of Blair's hair, moaning as he was almost overwhelmed by the sensations he was experiencing. His touch was filled with Blair, not just his hair, but also the hands that were caressing his back, the lithe body pressed against his own, the erection pushing against his thigh. His sense of smell was filled with Blair, whose basic scent was enhanced by the musk of arousal. If Blair smelled wonderful, he tasted even better, sweet, hot and dark combined, a flavor Jim could easily become addicted to. Jim's hearing was filled with the sounds of both of their hearts beating wildly, their breaths, when they took them, panting gasps. As they broke from the kiss, Jim let his sight fill with the vision of Blair, his hair messed, lips swollen from kisses and eyes dilated with passion. He watched as Blair leaned his head forward and Jim gasped as Blair sucked on his nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt.

"Oh, God, yes," Jim whispered, his hand cupping the back of Blair's head in encouragement. He moaned when Blair moved his mouth away, then smiled as the younger man helped him remove his t-shirt.

Blair ran his fingers down Jim's chest, lightly grazing both nipples, smiling at his partner's indrawn breath. His fingers continued down, until they rested on the button of Jim's pants. He lightly traced Jim's erection, moving his hand as Jim thrust his hips forward, wanting more of that touch.

"Blair, please..." the older man pleaded.

Blair ignored Jim's pleas, slowly unbuttoning the pants, then carefully unzipping them. Blair dropped to his knees, pulling Jim's pants down as he went. Leaning forward, Blair sucked the head of Jim's cock through the fabric of his boxers. Jim whimpered; it was almost too much, but definitely not enough he needed more, he wanted more. Releasing Jim's cock, Blair reached up and pulled the boxers down, then helped his lover step out of his clothes. He started to lean  
forward again, but he paused, then spoke.

"Get on the bed, Jim," he said.

Jim could feel the warm breath of the younger man flowing around his cock, and started to protest, "Blair, please-- "

"I said, get on the bed. Now," Blair repeated, this time a little more forcefully. Jim looked down at him, and seeing the determination in Blair's eyes, acquiesced. Blair stood up, watching as Jim climbed on the bed and positioned himself, lying on his back, staring at Blair. Walking over to the dresser, Blair grabbed a bottle of massage oil he had there, then threw it on the bed. They'd need it later.

Quickly undressing, he climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to Jim and leaning over to kiss him. Blair moved his mouth onto Jim's nipple, sucking, licking and nipping it, making the older man arch off the bed and groan. When he felt Jim's hand gently stroking his cock, Blair stopped, closing his eyes, moaning deep in his throat. It felt so good, but it wasn't how he planned to come. He let the hand rub him a few times before gently removing it from his erection.

"Not this time, love, I've got something else in mind," Blair whispered before bending over to gently lap at the head of Jim's cock, making his hips lift off the bed. Holding Jim's hips so that he couldn't push up into his mouth, Blair languidly took the entire length in, enjoying the sounds his lover was making. He moved his mouth up and down the shaft, his tongue gently swirling around it.

Jim's hands grasped at the sheets, and he finally closed his eyes, unable to watch Blair anymore, it was so good to have his cock in the hot wetness of that talented mouth. It didn't take long before he felt himself tensing, then his orgasm overtook him, washing over him like a warm wave as he came in Blair's mouth. He lay there, feeling as if he were a useless, boneless sack of flesh, unable to move, unable to even open his eyes. Blair swallowed every drop of fluid his lover had given him. He lay down on top of Jim, kissing him, smiling as Jim opened his eyes to stare at Blair.

"Oh, babe, that was.. wonderful," Jim managed to whisper.

"But I'm not finished with you yet," Blair said, getting off of Jim. He urged Jim to roll over onto his side, then slid up behind him. "I'm going to make you mine," he whispered into Jim's ear, enjoying the shudder that coursed through the man. Reaching behind him, Blair quickly grabbed the bottle of oil, opened it and spread a generous amount of the liquid on his fingers. He kissed the back of Jim's neck as he carefully slid a finger inside him, moving it slowly in and out. Jim moaned as Blair added a second finger, stretching him. Wanting to make sure he didn't hurt Jim, Blair added a third finger, making sure Jim was ready for him. He coated his cock with oil, then slowly pushed into his lover, pausing once the head of his cock was in.

"Are you all right?" Blair asked.

"Yes, just do it, fuck me!" Jim hissed, pushing his hips back, impaling himself on Blair's thick cock, making the younger man moan. Jim couldn't believe how good it felt having Blair inside him, almost splitting him in two, filling him completely. He squeezed his ass muscles, making the younger man growl, and Blair started thrusting in and out of his lover, setting a hard, hot pace. Blair slid his hand over Jim's hip, stroking the erection he found there in time with his thrusts into Jim's ass.

"You're mine, Jim, mine," he whispered, loving how it felt to be inside Jim, to be making love to the man he thought he'd lost forever. Soon, he felt Jim's body stiffen and the older man came, crying out Blair's name, his cum spurting over Blair's hand. Blair felt Jim's ass muscles grasping his cock and that was all it took to send him over the edge, pushing deep into his lover as he came, saying Jim's name.

They lay there for several minutes, trying to catch their breath, Blair with his face pressed against Jim's back. Finally, Jim moved and rolled over so he was facing Blair, pulling the younger man into his arms and gently kissing him.

"I love you so much, Blair," he said.

"I know, Jim, I love you, too," Blair murmured sleepily, as he snuggled closer to Jim, already half asleep.

Just outside of Bangor, Maine  
13 October, 1998  
Tuesday

Blair sighed as Jim slid into bed beside him. He snuggled against his lover as the older man wrapped his arms around him. "You know, Jim, I never thought I'd be this happy again. After everything that's happened, it's nice to feel almost settled again."

Jim kissed Blair, lazily exploring the other man's mouth. "Yeah, bab y, I know. It is nice, isn't it?" he asked, as he remembered the last two months.

He had told Simon and Stephen that he was alive, not wanting them to continue mourning him. Then, through some contacts Jack Kelso still had in the government, Jim had received a new identity. Blair had sold the loft, and they'd moved to a small town outside of Bangor since Blair had accepted the job at the University of Maine. Jim had started a small home security business, which he operated out of their two-storey Victorian house. Also, after Jack made a few discreet inquiries, he'd found out that Martinez thought that Jim and Cammy had died in the mountainside explosion in Mexico.

Jim had arranged for Cammy to get a new identity, as well. She and her lover, Sybil, and their daughter, Sylvia, now lived somewhere in New Hampshire, where Cammy was a stay-at-home mom while Sylvia worked as a school teacher. Cammy had arranged to keep in occasional contact with Jim and they sent sporadic messages to each other through Jack Kelso. Jim was brought out of his reverie when he felt Blair shiver a bit. it was starting to get quite cool at night, and Jim smiled. Blair hated the cold, but they'd moved to an even colder place than Cascade. Pulling his almost-asleep lover even closer, Jim kissed Blair's forehead vowing nothing would ever separate him from his Guide again. Nothing.

//**the end**\\\


End file.
